


We always walked a very thin line

by kiwiana



Category: Happiest Season (2020)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Break Up, Canon Dialogue, Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27723983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/kiwiana
Summary: The girlfriend — Abby — stumbles over a lie about being Harper's orphan roommate, which… wow. Girl is abadliar. Riley kind of wants to take her by the hand and tell her she’s going to have to get a lot better at that particular skill if she’s going to be in a relationship with Harper Caldwell. She doesn’t though, because it’s not her place and because who knows what, if anything, Harper has told Abby about her?
Relationships: Abby Holland/Riley Johnson, Harper Caldwell/Abby Holland
Comments: 115
Kudos: 1090





	We always walked a very thin line

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops, my hand slipped. This was supposed to be an Abby/Riley alternate ending, but it sort of wound up somewhere between that and a Riley character study. Written in like three hours, please forgive any errors, I'm too tired to catch them 😅
> 
> Title is from Taylor Swift.

The first thing Riley thinks, when she sees Harper coming out of the bathroom with someone she clocks as Harper’s girlfriend within a second, is _holy shit, she finally did it._ Because there’s no way that Harper — terrified, closeted, defensive Harper — would bring home someone so visibly, gorgeously queer unless she was okay with her parents associating that queerness with _her._

Would she?

Apparently, she would. The girlfriend — Abby — stumbles over a lie about being Harper’s orphan roommate, which… wow. Girl is a _bad_ liar. Riley kind of wants to take her by the hand and tell her she’s going to have to get a lot better at that particular skill if she’s going to be in a relationship with Harper Caldwell. She doesn’t though, because it’s not her place and because who knows what, if anything, Harper has told Abby about her?

She lets Harper squirm for just a second too long before slipping past them both, because she thinks she’s earned a little bit of pettiness. But the door hasn’t quite slung past behind her when she hears Abby ask, “Was that _the_ Riley?” and all of a sudden she’s seventeen again, desperate to run back out there and grab Abby by the shoulders and beg to know exactly what Harper has said about her.

God, she hates Christmas.

* * *

The next time she sees Abby it’s from several feet below, looking lost as she gazes over the crowd from the first-floor balcony. Riley raises a glass to her, only a little sarcastically, and gets the smallest of smiles in return before she looks away. When Riley looks around, wondering why Harper isn’t with her, she sees her trailing after her mom and dad.

Image first. Just like always.

* * *

She makes it almost an hour before she comes close enough to telling one of her parents’ friends to shove their bigotry right up their ass that she decides to step outside for some air, which might actually be a new record.

Maybe this is what maturity feels like.

After a few minutes of sipping on her hot chocolate, trying to warm up enough that she’s not driven back inside too soon, she can hear someone talking around the corner. She isn’t paying much attention until she hears _I’m not in the closet,_ and then she’ll admit she steps a little closer, still just out of sight of whoever’s there.

“I told you, Harper’s going to tell her parents everything right after the holidays.”

_Oh, Abby. No, she won’t._

It’s not that she doesn’t think people can change. It’s just that she’s been waiting a long, long time for Harper to do so.

She keeps listening, but Abby doesn’t mention Harper again — just argues with whoever is on the end for a minute before she abruptly stops speaking. Riley waits for a few beats, just in case the phone call isn’t actually over, before she walks around the corner doing her best attempt at nonchalance. She tries to tell Abby she can relate, but when Abby’s shoulders come up somewhere around her ears as she asks “For what?” Riley knows she’s not going to get any sort of heart to heart tonight.

“Nothing.” She clears her throat, shaking her head. “Nothing.”

And then she has no option but to go inside, or risk looking like she’s trying to interfere. Which she is, she supposes, but not in a _bad_ way. Just in a… concerned way.

She feels a little guilty, leaving Abby on her own out there in the cold.

Then again, maybe it’s better than being inside and having to listen to a thousand snide comments about her _lifestyle_ in the same breath as they ask her to diagnose their weird fungal infections.

* * *

When she runs into Abby opposite the cinema, she very politely pretends not to notice the tears in her eyes. She heard about the shoplifting incident, from her mom who relayed it in a scandalised tone. She’s spent about a minute and a half total in Abby’s company and even she knows that story smells off, so she has to wonder why no one in Harper’s family seems to have questioned it. _Did Harper even try to stick up for you?_ she wants to ask, but of course, she can’t.

“No Harper?” she asks instead, and Abby sticks her tongue into her cheek as though she’s biting it before she answers.

“No. She’s, um, with her family. I’m going to meet up with her in a bit.” Riley’s not sure if it’s her Abby’s trying to convince, or herself. “What’d you get?”

“Oh.” She glances down at the bag in her hand, then back up. “I can’t tell you, because it’s for the white elephant party.” She wonders if Harper has warned Abby about how serious the white elephant gets, about how every gift is assessed and judged and found wanting by everyone in attendance.

“Ah.” Abby nods, resigned. “You’re going to that too?”

“Oh yeah. Yeah, my family goes every year.” And every year she tries to get out of it, and every year her mom lays on the guilt trip until she gives in. It’s practically a holiday tradition at this point. “It’s, um…” She shakes her head, the sarcasm finally slipping through. “God, it’s the best party of the year.”

Abby laughs, ducking her head towards the ground.

 _You’re beautiful._ The thought races across her brain before she can stop it, closely followed by _I hope Harper makes you laugh like that._

She probably does. Harper’s fun, and funny, when she’s not all tangled up in the suffocating expectations of her family.

Abby looks at her with an almost imperceptible smile. “You know, I’m glad I ran into you.” For just a second Riley’s breath catches, and then she continues. “Because I’m having this thing where if I stick my finger in my eye, it, like, really hurts.”

Riley smirks, but plays along. “Yeah, I mean, that’s a classic case of, um…” She racks her brain for half a second, trying to think of something. “Contact Stupiditis. Um, because it’s a stupid thing to do.”

Abby laughs again, and then before Riley quite realises what’s happening, they’re going for a drink.

They’re halfway through their first round when Abby makes a face like she’s screwing up her courage. Riley doesn’t understand it for a second, but as soon as Abby speaks, she does.

“What did you mean last night when you said you could relate?”

Riley hesitates for a second. She’s sure. She’s… ninety-nine and a half percent sure. But just in case, she hedges. “That was just a comment, based on an assumption that I was making about you and Harper.”

Abby glances down, reaches for her drink. “I think it’s probably an accurate assumption.” From the look on her face, Riley suspects it’s the most honest she’s been able to be since she and Harper arrived, and a pang of sympathy shoots through her. For all that her family’s approach to her sexuality can be better described as tolerant than accepting, she’s never once had to go back into the closet once she was shoved out of it.

Abby puts her glass down. “You don’t have to talk to me about this stuff. I know it’s weird, like—”

Riley can’t help herself. She has to know. “So what has she told you?”

“That you dated in high school. That you were her first girlfriend. That’s about it.”

So, the truth, but also not at all the truth. The Harper Caldwell specialty. She shouldn’t be as surprised as she is.

Some of that must show on her face, because Abby looks at her for a long moment. “Is there more?”

“Mm-hmm. Yeah. A little.”

Abby nods, but it’s resigned rather than surprised. Riley wonders how many of Harper’s carefully walled-up secrets have already come bursting out since they got here.

“I mean… yeah.” Even after all this time, it’s surprisingly hard to get the words out. She’s only told a few people this — her therapist, a couple of girlfriends — because even now, even after everything, she’s still keeping Harper’s secrets.

But Abby deserves to know.

She pours out the whole sordid tale, and Abby looks suitably horrified — more horrified, Riley can’t help noticing, than Harper ever has, then or in all the years since. But soon the moment is broken by two drag queens and their call and response, and then she’s laughing harder than she has in a long time as she encourages Abby to sing into the microphone.

* * *

She’s surprised, when Abby calls and asks if she can help her pick out a white elephant gift. They walk along the main street, ducking in and out of shops and talking about everything except, deliberately, Harper — school and music and art and poetry. It’s not clear if Abby’s avoiding talking about her girlfriend for Riley’s sake or her own, but either way, Riley is happy to let her steer the conversation.

* * *

She has to admit, the Caldwell Christmas party is a lot more bearable than it was when she was a kid.

Mainly because now she’s allowed to drink at them.

She slides in next to Abby once everyone’s distracted pretending to enjoy listening to Sloane’s kids sing. “What are you drinking?”

Abby glances down at the glass in her hand as though that’s not a question she’s thought about before now. Riley can relate, honestly. “Oh, it’s spiced… alcohol.”

“Gross. Can I have some?”

Abby doesn’t even glance at her as she holds the glass out. “Yeah.”

She was right. It _is_ gross, but it’s also strong, and she resolves to get her own glass of it as soon as possible.

* * *

An hour later finds them slumped down in armchairs next to each other while Riley tells Abby all about her parents’ weird Santa obsession and Abby… makes a valiant attempt to pretend she’s listening, Riley will give her that. She’s not entirely sure how they get from that topic to Abby word vomiting all her insecurities about her relationship, but somehow they do, and Riley does her best to be reassuring right up until Abby drops a bombshell.

“I was going to ask her to marry me tomorrow.”

Riley’s chest aches for her. For all the shit Harper put her through, it was ultimately just a high school romance. They never lived together, never made plans for the future — not serious ones, anyway. She reaches out, squeezing Abby’s shoulder before she offers the best comfort she can think of.

“I’m going to get you a real drink, okay?”

Abby nods, and Riley smiles at her before she gets up. It takes her a minute to weave her way through the crowds, and she’s scooping punch out of the bowl and into the biggest glass she could find when she hears Tipper’s voice somewhere behind her.

“Abby’s ex-boyfriend has come to win her back, isn’t that sweet?”

Riley hides the snort that escapes her behind a very fake cough. Whoever has come to see Abby, she can pretty much guarantee it’s not an ex-boyfriend; it never ceases to amaze her just how much people like her family and the Caldwells can not see, when they’re deliberately trying not to.

But when Tipper calls everyone into the living room for the white elephant, neither Abby nor Harper are anywhere to be seen.

* * *

Riley is steadily drinking her way through the white elephant and laughing to herself at the way some guy she’s never met, who she can only assume is “Abby’s ex-boyfriend” Tipper was talking about earlier, blatantly feels up Connor under the guise of touching his muscles, when Harper and Sloane burst past her into the room, screaming at each other.

She’s borne witness to their antics for years — though the fact that it’s happening in front of their parents’ distinguished guests is kind of a surprise — so Riley isn’t paying much attention to the content of the argument at first, just enjoying the spectacle. But then Harper throws a bouquet of fake flowers at Sloane, and Sloane gets the strangest look on her face as her shoulders drop and her eyes turn cold, and suddenly there’s a horrible swooping in Riley’s stomach.

“Harper is a lesbian. Abby’s her girlfriend.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see a few curious glances being thrown Abby’s way, but Riley switches her gaze from Sloane to Harper.

When they were little, they were convinced if they practised enough they could develop some sort of psychic link; talk to each other over long distances without tying up the phone lines their dads always used for important business calls. They gave up eventually, but Riley finds herself desperately wishing for the talent now.

_Come on, Harper. Be braver for her than you were for me._

“She’s lying!” The words burst hysterically out of Harper’s mouth, and Riley’s heart sinks. She glances over at Abby, who looks like she’s fighting to remember how to breathe.

“I am not a lesbian! Sloane is the one that has this big—” She breaks off, and Riley glances back at her to see Harper finally, finally looking at Abby, understanding written all over her face.

Abby walks out the front door, slamming it behind her. After a moment, her definitely-not-ex-boyfriend (she should really figure out his name) slips out of the room, and just after that Harper grabs Jane’s painting and brings it down over Sloane’s head.

In the resulting kerfuffle, Riley’s probably the only one who notices the not-ex slip out the front door, a couple of coats in hand.

* * *

“Great party.”

Maybe it’s wrong of her to put the boot in.

Then again, maybe Harper needs a bit of a reminder that this is a very familiar story to her.

Harper nods, her eyes downcast. “Yeah.”

And despite everything, Riley does feel the tiniest — tiniest — bit sorry for her. Being outed against your will fucking sucks. She should know.

“You okay?”

Harper nods, but her eyes are filled with tears. When she opens her mouth, though, Riley is wholly unprepared for the words that come out. “I’m so sorry.”

She’s been waiting almost half her life for this apology, and now that she’s gotten it she has no idea what to do with it. She can’t say _it’s okay,_ because she’s not sure if it is.

She’s acutely aware that she’s probably not the person Harper _wants_ to be apologising to right now.

She sighs and holds out her hand for Harper to shake. “Merry Christmas.”

Harper smiles. “Merry Christmas.”

Riley intends to leave; she really does. But at the last second, she turns back. “She’s a really good one.”

She hopes Harper knows how lucky she’ll be, if Abby forgives her.

Harper chuckles wetly. “I know.”

* * *

She doesn’t hear from Abby for two days. Honestly, she didn’t expect to at all, until her phone buzzes just as she’s getting ready for bed.

**TEXT MESSAGE:**

Abby  
  
**Today** 10:17 PM  
**Abby:** Not sure if you heard, but Harper and I broke up  
**Riley:** I’m so sorry  
**Riley:** Being with someone who isn’t ready to come out is hard  
**Abby:** She did come out, actually, after everyone left  
**Abby:** But it was just too late, you know?  
**Riley:** I’m sorry, Abby  
**Riley:** You doing okay?  
**Abby:** I’ll have to get back to you on that  
**Riley:** Make sure you do  
**Read** 10:52 PM

* * *

They text each other over the next few months. Abby tells her that she’s staying with her not-ex-boyfriend (John, his name is John, she should really start calling him that in her head) and Riley sends her memes about Ted’s mayoral campaign. And it’s not like they talk every day — they don’t even talk every week, sometimes, between Abby finishing her PhD and Riley’s residency — but every time Abby’s name appears on Riley’s screen, her stomach flips.

So she’s got a little crush. It’s fine.

But as time goes on Abby’s texts get a little warmer, a little flirtier, and they even Facetime once or twice — usually when they’re talking about clothes, or when Abby gets frustrated trying to describe a piece of art and Riley answers the phone call and finds the camera already pointed at a photo in a textbook.

And still, it takes her until July to muster up her courage and just _ask._

**TEXT MESSAGE:**

Abby  
  
**Today** 4:19 PM  
**Riley:** I’m going to be in your neck of the woods tomorrow  
**Riley:** Can I take you to dinner?  
**Abby:** I’d like that  
**Riley:** Okay. It’s a date?  
**Abby:** Yeah. It’s a date.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://youtastelike-sunlight.tumblr.com).


End file.
